Last Chance to Lose Control
by elsbian
Summary: You could either go and see him and stop being such a wuss, or you could stay in your house feeling sorry for yourself. What's it going to be? Huddy oneshot. Rated for language and events.


**Ok, so I got bored this evening and decided that instead of doing my coursework I would write this. Enjoy.**

You stare across the room at the rain streaked window. The raindrops smash and hammer against it, creating a white noise in the background of your mind.

Much like the rain on the window, all the thoughts running through your head are blurred and streaked together, completely lost but somehow completely unique, too.

Each single thought is so clear but so unreadable as it swirls around, never staying still long enough for you to make any sense of it.

You sigh, breathing away some of your troubles. Why was your head so messed up? You hadn't drunk that much had you? Although you never really drink, so maybe you're just not used to the slightly larger amount that you'd had tonight.

With a groan of frustration you run your hands over your face and through your luscious brown curls.

You stand up and begin pacing around the room, deciding what to do.

You could either go and see him and stop being such a wuss, or you could stay in your house feeling sorry for yourself. What's it going to be?

With a determined deep breath, you grab your coat and keys and leave your house. You quickly slip on your coat as you rush down the steps to your car. You fumble with the keys before finally managing to slip them into the lock and twist them. The locks click open and you tug open the door before clambering in.

You were only outside in the rain for a matter of seconds, but somehow you're dripping wet. You sigh and brush the raindrops off of your skirt. Who the hell wears a skirt on a day like today?

You twist your car keys in the ignition and rev the engine. It roars into life and you pull out of your driveway.

Rain is still falling from the sky in white sheet and splashing onto the ground. The windscreen wipers of your car frantically swipe left and right, pushing waves of water across the screen. The window is momentarily clear before being drowned once more under the fat droplets of water.

You never stop thinking about what you're doing the whole way to his apartment. Seriously, what the hell _are_ you doing? You're leaving your warm cosy house in the middle of the night to go and tell a complete asshole how you _feel_. What is wrong with you? And you're tipsy! You shouldn't even be driving! Although being tipsy will be a great excuse when House asks what you're doing at his apartment soaking wet...

You suddenly realise that you're now sitting in your car outside House's apartment. When did you even get here? How long have you been just sitting here?

You frown before climbing out of the car and slamming the door shut behind you. You jog the short space to his front door and knock before you can change your mind.

'What are you _doing_?' your mind hisses at you. It makes an excellent point, what the _fuck_ are you doing? You're potentially destroying the small amount of respect that House may have for you by doing this. He'll think you're weak. Especially when he finds out you've been drinking to keep yourself happy.

You listen carefully. Muffled bumps could be heard from the inside of the door. They grew increasingly louder as House got closer to the door.

"What?" House asks as he opens the door.

"Hi to you too." You say, for lack of anything better to say.

"What're you doing here?" He asks.

"Why are you in your pyjamas?" You counter as you eyes him up and down.

"Why aren't you? It's midnight, Cuddy, maybe you never learnt to tell the time, but usually when it's pitch black outside it means it's late."

"Thanks for the lesson. Can I come in?" You ask in a flat tone.

House frowns at your blunt answer. You know what he's thinking, it's practically written in black marker across his face, but he lets it slide and steps away from the door to let you past.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly. You glance around the room; since when did House tidy? Everything was spotless. For once there were no empty bottle of alcohol or vicodin lying around. This was one for the books!

"You tidied." You state. It's an obvious thing to say, but you can't seem to tell him what you want to tell him.

"No I didn't. Wilson tidied it." House corrected whilst he shuts the door.

"Wilson tidied your apartment?" You ask incredulously; Wilson would never do that for House!

"Way to repeat what I just said." House rolled his eyes and flopped onto the couch.

You frown. Why was he being so pissy with you? He's always sarcastic and rude, but usually you can just about hear the air of playfulness in his voice. Today there was no playful tone, no little smirks. What had you done wrong?

You slowly walk over and take a seat next to him. He doesn't even register your presence next to him; he just stares blankly at the TV screen, which was particularly weird considering that the TV wasn't even on.

"Why are you here?" He finally says after several minutes of silence.

"Why not?" You shrug.

"That's not an answer." House said. He hasn't looked at you since you sat down.

"Why won't you look at me?" You ask; you have to know, it's getting to you now.

House turns his head and looks you in the eyes. You feel your heart jump a beat as it feels like he's staring into your soul.

"Better?" He asks. The playful tone was back again, but no smirks.

"Much." You say, your voice just above a whisper.

House nods. "So why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you." You answer. You realise one obvious flaw in this sentence; he'll want to know what you wanted to talk to him about, and you're not going to be able to answer.

"What about?" He frowns. He shifts his weight in his seat so his body is facing you too.

You shrug; how are you supposed to answer this question?

He waits patiently for your answer as you stare down at your hands in your lap.

Finally you take a deep breath and look back into his eyes.

"I wanted to talk to you about..." You start, but you have no idea how to finish the sentence. "Ugh, why is this so _fucking_ difficult?" You groan in frustration.

'SAY IT!' your mind hisses. You want to, you really do, but you can't think of the right words.

House sighs and brushes a stray strand of hair out of your face. You smile in appreciation whilst trying very hard not to let him notice the shiver that ran down your spine when he touched your cheek.

He leans closer, and for a moment you think he's going to kiss you, but instead he sniffs your breath and frowns.

"Have you been drinking?" House frowned.

"A little." You admit, but you don't tell him why, even though you know he'll ask.

"Why?" He asks. You laugh in your head; he was so predictable.

"I don't know." You lie. You know perfectly well why, and there's a good chance that he does too, but you're not going to say it unless he does, because if he's thinking it then maybe, just _maybe_, he feels the same way.

"Welcome to my world." He sighs, and you look at him with a smile.

"So..." You mumble.

"How long were you planning on staying here?" House asks. His question seems blunt and rude, but you can understand why; the fact that the TV was off and he was in his pyjamas suggested that he was _probably_ going to bed.

"Got things to do?" You smirk. Teasing him kept the banter flowing, and the banter definitely preferable to the awkward silences.

"I was going to go to sleep, but since you're here I guess that's out of the question."

"What, no sex jokes?" You arch your brow and smile.

"I said I can't go to go to _sleep_ because you're here; I said nothing about not going to _bed_." He winks.

There's the House you know and love, and he's back with innuendos!

You stare seriously at him, not smirking or laughing.

"You wanna?" You ask. Half of you is just saying that because you know that House will shit himself in shock, but the other half is saying it because, well, why do _you_ think?

House's jaw drops as his eyes widen. He didn't shit himself, but it was definitely close.

"Relax, I was kidding." You sigh.

A look of relief flashes through his eyes. _So he didn't feel the same way then_, you think. Your body goes cold as any warmth scuttles off and leaves you. _He didn't feel the same way_, you repeat.

You look up from your lap and see him frowning at you.

"What?" You ask. Why was he looking at you like that?

"Why do you look so sad?" He asks. He sounds sincere, almost like he cares, but that wasn't like him at all.

"I'm not sad." You answer, probably a little too quickly as he looks taken aback by your defensive answer.

"Ok, you're happy then. Very happy." House smirked.

You, however, don't see the funny side of this. You stand up and sigh before beginning to walk to the door.

"Where are you going?" House asks, standing up and following you.

"Home." You say, your voice is harsh.

"Why did you come just to leave again five minutes later?" House frowned. Was he always this dense?

You yank open the door only for it to be pushed shut again by House's cane.

You turn around and see House standing right behind you, looking down into your eyes.

"I know why you came." He said before pausing, "To my apartment," he added, "the sexual pun wasn't intended."

You hadn't even noticed the innuendo until he corrected himself. You roll your eyes and arch a brow.

"Why did I come here then?" You demand. Your voice isn't loud or threatening in any way, but it's stern.

House goes quiet and doesn't answer. He just looks at you, his eyes warming you heart again. It's like he's answering you with his eyes, but you don't want that, you want it to be vocalised.

"Well?"

House just shakes his head, staying silent.

"Exactly." You sigh. You turn around again to open the door, but apparently your mind has one last thing to say before it's going to let you give up.

'Last chance,' your mind whispers, 'he's not going to do anything about this, is he?'

You mull it over in your head. There are certainly more cons than pros, but that one pro is probably worth more than all of the cons put together...

'Last chance to lose control...' The last thing you think before your turn around and stare up at House, before he leans down and kisses you.

The kiss is soft and gentle, the complete opposite of what you thought it would be. You were expecting hot, fast and intense, and although it was still hot and intense, it wasn't fast by any means. House's tongue slowly ran across your bottom lip as he swallowed your small moans.

You slowly pull away, much to the dismay of your mind.

"You didn't want to talk at all, did you?" House smirked.

"Why did you do that?" You ask in a hoarse whisper.

House shrugged, "Because I knew you wanted me to."

"Is that the only reason?" You ask sadly.

"No, you also have a zesty bod." He smirks.

When had you heard that before? You sigh and try to turn around again but House places a hand on the side of your face and stops you.

"Don't leave." He says quietly but clearly.

"Why shouldn't I?" You ask harshly.

"Because you know you don't want to." He answers, moving his hand from your face to your shoulder.

Ok, so no, you don't want to leave, but that doesn't mean you want to stay here and have him tell you that he has no feelings for you but kiss you anyway.

"And because I don't want you to." He adds in a small mumble, looking away from you and removing his hand from your shoulder.

You don't say anything this time; you can't think of anything _to_ say, so you do the next best thing and place a soft kiss on the stubbly area of his cheek. Your lips linger on the stubble, your breath hot against his face. You run the tip of your tongue along the side of his cheek before it reaches his lips. His eyes are closed and his lips are slightly parted as his cane falls to the floor and his hands grip your hips. Your lips press against his and all of a sudden it's no longer slow or sensual; it's fast as fuck as he suddenly takes control and his lips work hard to give you what you want.

Once again you pull away and look up at him, only this time you have two options; you could stay with him and stop being such a wuss, or you could go home feeling sorry for yourself because you didn't stay. What's it going to be?

**Reviews?**


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